


A Little Nudge

by shouldgowork



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Battle of Five Armies - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, M/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21638374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shouldgowork/pseuds/shouldgowork
Summary: Bilbo enlists Thorin, and a large delivery of mistletoe from the Greenwood, to help him get Dwalin and Ori admit their feelings.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Dwalin/Ori (Tolkien)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 119





	A Little Nudge

‘I’ve come to recognise that look of late.’ 

Bilbo jumped when he heard Thorin’s voice behind him; dwarves were almost as stealthy as hobbits when they wished to be. 

‘What look?’ He said, with more bluster than he would have liked. ‘Anyway, you can’t see my face from there.’ 

‘You’ve been wearing the look on and off for a few days now.’ 

‘But you’re only asking me about it now?’

He felt Thorin’s head come to rest on his shoulder, wisps of his hair tickling Bilbo’s neck. 

‘It’s only now that I find you standing at the front gate to the city, waiting for…’ He paused, peering with blinking eyes out into the bright daylight of the plain. ‘A cart?’ 

Bilbo shook him off and turned round grinning. ‘A plan.’ 

‘A scheme more likely.’ 

Bilbo threw up his hands in mock astonishment.

‘What is it you’re planning?’ 

‘A party. To mark the end of the year. Not a big official one, just a little get together for the members of the company.’ 

Thorin frowned a moment. ‘Yes, it’s been nearly four months since we’ve all managed to meet privately. Everyone’s just so busy. Especially me. It’s very thoughtful of you.’ 

Bilbo stifled a laugh as he could virtually hear the cogs turning in the dwarf’s mind. 

‘This isn’t for my benefit, is it.’ 

‘It’s for  _ everyone’s _ benefit.’ He said, spared further questioning for the moment by the arrival of the cart through the gates. He hopped about trying to peer over the side of it, until Thorin gave in and clambered up himself, pulling Bilbo after him. 

‘Just as I requested.’ He said, inspecting the heap of foliage before him. There were beautiful boughs of autumnal oak in shades of gold and brown, gilded sprigs tied into bundles but chiefly, piled up high in the centre, was a heap of green stalks and white berries in bunches. 

Thorin picked one up, inspected it for a moment, and turned to Bilbo with a raised eyebrow. ‘I remember once, a very long time ago, these were brought as a gift to my grandfather from the Greenwood. There was a custom attached them to them that was very popular there. Amongst the elvish folk.’ Thorin trailed off for a moment.

‘And among men too.’ Bilbo interjected hastily, before Thorin’s mind could be completely turned against the stuff, although this was not the reason for his distractedness. Instead, he was trying to recall the details of the custom, turning sharply to Bilbo when he did.

‘Surely you can’t be planning to trap them with this.’ 

Bilbo held up his hands. ‘The fact that you know exactly who this is for, and why, demonstrates its necessity.’ 

‘I suppose that’s true. But is it wise to meddle?’ 

‘Meddling? Mercy, more like. It's been painful to watch.’ 

‘Do you never think that perhaps we’ve overstated their attachment to one another? After all, they haven't ever actually _said_...’ 

Bilbo raised his eyebrow involuntarily. ‘Last time I tried to bring it up with Ori, he set me on fire.’ 

‘He what?’ Thorin half shouted. 

‘Well, I don’t think it was on purpose. But as soon as I said Dwalin’s name, he dropped the taper he was holding, and it just so happened to land on my sleeve.’ 

Thorin calmed down and seemed deep in thought for a moment. ‘When I asked Dwalin at Bofur’s wedding the other week if he’d considered marriage recently, he tried to suggest we start a war.’ 

‘A war with whom?’ 

‘He didn’t get that far. Just someone far away.’ 

Bilbo sighed. ‘Well then, before any wars get started or archives burned to the ground, I suggest we do something.’ 

Thorin reflected for a moment. ‘But what if they don’t want us to interfere?’ 

‘Of  _ course  _ they don’t want us to. They’re scared. But they are also our dearest friends and they deserve happiness. And I’m not sure I can sit through another function, wedding, feast, or meeting with them staring at one another like  _ that _ .’ He continued, adopting a thousand yard, wounded stare that made Thorin stifle a laugh guiltily.

‘And besides, it’s just a little nudge. If that sends them hurtling, that’s their business.’ 

Thorin couldn’t contain the laugh any more. ‘I suppose all those points are true. Especially the last one. Very well, we will see what comes of your little experiment.’ 

‘Oh, it’s  _ our  _ little experiment. You’ll be helping out for this one.’ 

‘What?’ 

‘Well don’t just stand there gawping, we’ve got an entire set of rooms to cover with this!’ 

Duty called Thorin away far too soon, and so Bilbo was left to decorate the lavish reception room, discreetly tucked away behind the throne hall, largely by himself, but with frequent breaks for tea and cake, the ordeal wasn’t too arduous. By early afternoon the place was adequately decorated, messengers had been sent with invitations and returned with confirmations - after all, what other plans could trump a reunion of this sort? All that was left now was to buy some cakes, order some cider to be mulled, and, lastly, to check that all the best strategic locations were adequately covered with mistletoe, as well as all the corners, nooks and spaces around pillars that they might try and hide in. There was to be no escape for them this evening. 

He looked over his work with a critical eye for the last time and, then, a sense of deep self-satisfaction before rushing off to make the last orders and change. 

He returned at the appointed time and was unsurprised to find he was the first one there. Although, he reflected optimistically, this just gave him first run at the refreshments table which had been set up by the caterers at short notice and for an extortionate fee. He had just finished piling up a plate high with cake and was juggling two mugs of warm cider when Thorin and Dwalin walked in. 

As expected Dwalin made straight for the table, pausing only mid-bite to turn to the host. 

‘Good spread.’ He said, and turned back to it as Bilbo’s gracious thanks went unheeded by his back.

The other two took advantage of his diverted attention to exchange a last look of understanding about their respective roles in the night’s plan. It was a plan of two simple parts established as they had started decorating the room alone earlier; lead them into the same space, a space under one of the boughs, and then casually bring up the custom, and wait for the inevitable. It had seemed foolproof earlier; now, a little less so. 

After Dwalin had refilled his mug for the third time, Thorin gently took him by the arm to show him one of the decorations, and so led his unsuspecting friend to stand underneath a particularly large bunch of mistletoe. Soon more began to file in: Bifur, Bofur and Bombur, Oin and Gloin, who had been persuaded only with some difficulty to leave his wife and the little one at home, Fili and Kili coming from a meeting with Balin, and finally, running late and already snipping at one another in their customary way, Dori, Nori and Ori. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dwalin tense up at the sight of them and try to jam himself into a corner, Thorin trailing after him and going on inanely about the importation of fresh fish from Laketown to try to keep him in a conversation. Bilbo made a beeline for Ori, pressing a cup of cider into his hands and directing him to admire the centrepiece of gilded twigs on the table that was closer to the side of the room where Thorin was still trying to maintain a conversation about herrings. 

‘Waste of gold. Looks elvish.’ Ori muttered, looking distractedly into the dark corner that currently housed Dwalin and drinking deeply, a pained expression on his face. 

‘As you say.’ Bilbo said cheerfully, steering him towards the very same corner on the pretext of pointing out a more plain, stout decoration nearby that no doubt would suit his tastes better. With surprising grace, before either of them were even halfway there, Dwalin had moved away again, back to the drinks table, Thorin trailing after him and now trying to talk to him about the spices in the cider. 

‘Well, how is the work in the archives coming along? I’m sorry I haven’t been able to come along in the last couple of weeks. Had a lot to do in Dale, what with trade picking up again.’ Bilbo asked, hoping he could reel Ori into a long and involved discussion on the matter, giving Thorin time to drag his quarry back, for they were perfectly placed under a bunch of mistletoe. 

‘Fine. Good. We keep finding new material every day. Even some stuff about some halflings. Stoors, though, not your type.’ 

‘Well that’s nice.’ Bilbo said, only half paying attention, instead watching Thorin trying to steer his own conversation partner back to them; although Nori interrupted to challenge Dwalin to a drinking contest. 

‘Damn it.’ Bilbo muttered. 

‘Well, you did ask!’ Ori said in a huff. 

‘Oh, no sorry I just… realised my plate was empty.’ Bilbo replied lamely, dragging Ori back over towards the nascent competition and the cake. He glanced upwards; there was still a bough of mistletoe over them. He seized the opportunity and pushed Ori into Dwalin’s back, muttering an apology for his clumsiness. 

Dwalin turned around, ready for a fight, until he saw his attacker and his face somehow both relaxed and tensed further. He bowed in silence, and watched the greeting returned, before they both defaulted to staring balefully at one another. Bilbo took a moment to roll his eyes at Thorin before ploughing on with his plan. 

‘Oh look, I had nearly forgotten, I bought-’ He began, pointing up at the bough above them, but no one was listening to him; instead, they were listening to Bofur who had begun to clamber onto the table singing and tapping his foot along on the wood to make a tune. 

‘What is it?’ Ori asked, the only person still paying attention to Bilbo. 

‘Nothing. Never mind.’ He said mutinously, but Ori had already been swept into a reel by Nori that put him out of reach until the end of the song a few minutes later. 

Not that that helped much. For the next half an hour or so, they performed a strange waltz around the room, Bilbo and Thorin leading each of their friends to one another, only to have them hurry away with barely a word exchanged and instead stare at one another across the small crowd. 

‘This is not working as well as you’d hoped.’ Thorin said in a low voice, barely suppressing a smile, as they took a moment away to strategise around the unwitting guests. 

‘I’m a few minutes from tying a damned sprig of the stuff to his bloody head and pushing him again.’ 

‘A few more minutes and I may even help you.’ Thorin admitted. 

‘Let’s give it another couple of tries and then I may have to give up.’ 

‘I never thought to see such a fearsome dwarf so afraid.’ Thorin murmured, and Bilbo followed his eyes to find himself staring at the improbable sight of Dwalin laughing nervously in response to accidentally ending up in front of Ori, who was staring that the floor and slowly turning the same shade of purple as his shirt. Bilbo watched the scene himself with helpless and obvious irritation. 

‘You don’t understand dwarves.’ Thorin said by way of explanation. 

‘I really don’t. Why don’t they just…’ He made vague hand gestures. 

‘There is nothing more painful than rejection to us. It lasts a lifetime.’ 

‘They are both worried they’ll be rejected? Really?’ 

Thorin stopped to consider this a moment. ‘I never said these two were the most sensible. In truth I’ve never seen Dwalin act so foolishly in the century and a half I’ve known him.’ 

‘Then we’ll have to be sensible for them.’ Bilbo said, marching off to drag Ori, only too grateful, away from their current position gawping at each other, to try to arrange things properly. They chatted inconsequentially for a few minutes, a very frustrating few minutes for the hobbit as they had ended up facing the wrong way, so while Ori was staring balefully at Dwalin and Thorin, Bilbo was unable to see them or where they were. The only upside of this arrangement was that the good overview drew Ori’s attention to the mistletoe above them.

‘This is very pretty, Bilbo. Where did you find it?’ He said, pointing to a sprig that was above them. 

‘Oh this? Yes, funny you should ask-’ he began, and instantly wished he hadn’t, as he was dangerously close to upsetting the plan. ‘Er, they grow on the edge of the Greenwood. They hold a very important part in a new year's cus-’

‘They look like milk.’ Ori continued, picking one and poking at it gently while continuing to stare off in the distance. 

‘Yes, but they’d do you less good, they’re very poison-’

All the colour drained from Ori’s face and he pushed Bilbo to the ground in his haste to move. Bilbo watched from his vantage point between legs as Ori sprinted across the room and leapt onto Dwalin, tackling him to the floor - and sending a bough of mistletoe flying out of Dwalin’s hands. 

‘Oh.’ Bilbo said to himself, as he scrabbled between the legs to get a better view of things from the front. 

‘What in blazes are you doing lad!’ Dwalin half shouted, although Ori was so distressed he couldn’t quite find it within himself to be truly angry. 

‘What are  _ you  _ doing, they’re poisonous you idiot!’ Ori shrieked back.

Bilbo looked to Thorin, who looked just as horrified as Dwalin did, and instantly Bilbo saw he’d made a terrible error in assuming that Thorin, at least, knew they were poisonous, and in thinking that the dwarves wouldn’t try to eat his decorations once the cake was gone. 

‘I thought you were- I thought you might-’ Ori continued, still glued to Dwalin’s front as if he were scared to let go. He continued to chatter distractedly for a few moments. ‘I couldn’t live without you.’ He finally blurted out and the silence hung over the entire company until, at the same time, Dwalin hooked an arm around Ori’s shoulders to pull him down properly, and Ori closed the distance between them and kissed him. 

A general cheer went up, although underneath the noise Bilbo could hear Dori muttering. ‘For  _ goodness  _ sake Ori, not on the  _ floor _ .’ 

After a few seconds, the cheer quietened, but the pair made no signs of stopping and, when Ori rolled over onto his back, bringing Dwalin with him, a collective decision was made in silence to leave as hastily as physically possible. As Bilbo shut the door firmly behind all of them, and everyone began to scatter, he allowed himself a smug smile. 

‘I don’t know what you’re so happy about, your plan didn’t  _ actually _ work. If anything, this worked out in spite of your plan.’ Thorin said, as soon as everyone else had dispersed.

‘Well, it was still my mistletoe that did the trick. Like I said, they just needed a little nudge.’ 

‘Little nudge? He could have died!’ 

Bilbo shrugged. ‘Small details. Anyway, you’re focusing on the wrong thing.’ 

‘You’re right, our friends have finally allowed themselves happiness, no matter how they got there.’

‘Correct, but not what I meant at all.’ 

‘Oh? What should I be focussing on?’ 

‘I picked up a sprig of the stuff before we left the room and it’s in my pocket right now.’ 


End file.
